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When immigrating to become one of the Veda, one was asked to give up emotions. Naturally, because the Veda knew best how powerful the influence of emotions could be. In the normal society before the apocalypse, an adult made an average of 3,500 decisions per day, most of which were based on emotion rather than logic.
If one considered that each decision, no matter how minor, brought consequences and effects that compound day by day, eventually shaping what is referred to as “fate,” tying fate to emotion and then lamenting the capriciousness of fate was, in the Veda’s understanding, one of humanity’s most reckless, foolish, and irresponsible characteristics.
However, the Veda knew when and how to use emotion.
For example, the people now surrounding the cage, each with different expressions on their faces, Yu Yuan classified them all under the category of greed. They stared at him for two seconds before other reactions began to surface.
“That’s impossible,” Blue shirt said with a scoff, his eyes unwilling to stray from Yu Yuan. “To me, he’s too human; look at the pores on the skin, you can see the blood vessels… Look at the hair, teeth, even the gums.”
Yu Yuan, who was being inspected like livestock, cooperatively opened his mouth.
The middle-aged man, lifting his saggy face, rolled his eyes beneath heavy eyelids, looked for a long time, and slowly said, “You don’t understand. Humanoid Special Item are supposed to look like this, like a real person.”
“Have you seen one?” Blue shirt countered.
“Of course.” He folded his hands behind his back, leaning slightly forward, and squinted at Yu Yuan. “Hmm… I came into contact with a few humanoid Special Items back in the day. Ah, memories from many years ago; let’s not talk about it.”
“It would be nice if this humanoid Special Item were female,” Lord Tremors said regretfully.
Edgar Allan Poe chuckled, and the atmosphere among the males in the room lightened a bit. The short bangs person added, “We could agree on one week per person. It wouldn’t go bad anyway.”
Queen Nocturna, the extremely cowered woman, and another curly-haired middle-aged woman all ignored the conversation, their heads bowed.
It seemed that Lily, whom Lin Sanjiu had timely rescued, had little hope of being saved, at least not by these people. Yu Yuan added an explanation to his constantly updating live text feed: “They have the power to mobilize and use words but clearly can’t turn words back into people. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be unable to even produce a mate.”
Yu Yuan could imagine what emotions Lin Sanjiu might feel after reading this part, but he didn’t dwell on it. After the recent turmoil, Queen Nocturna said, “I have a way to test if he’s a humanoid Special Item. I can—”
“You knew he was a humanoid Special Item all along, didn’t you? That’s why you created this cage to lock yourself in with him,” Edgar Allan Poe said, increasingly suspicious. “Don’t tell me you wanted to try to pocket him because he’s a Special Item. We’re not stupid.”
Queen Nocturna, who was clearly planning just that, suddenly looked sullen. Yu Yuan had foreseen this, but since the girl’s death, he knew that these people wouldn’t allow anyone to test whether he was real or not.
However, the possibility of Queen Nocturna forcefully trying it anyway was still there, and not a small one—like right now.
When she pretended to turn around but suddenly lunged at Yu Yuan, the Veda silently nodded in agreement in his mind. He took a step in the opposite direction and gracefully turned half a circle along the railing, letting Queen Nocturna grab at nothing. The human body he had crafted was only suitable for basic post-apocalyptic functioning, but it was enough for self-protection in front of these people.
When he and Queen Nocturna had swapped positions, she lunged again, and the surrounding people finally started reacting.
“What are you doing?!” the middle-aged woman with faded blue eyebrows and dark eyeliner yelled. “Get over there! What do you want to do, you young thing? Full of evil ideas!”
As she spoke, she reached between the bars and yelled, “You think we can’t add words to your text? Let me tell you, I can send you, a small brat, back with my ability.”
The remaining people also began to clamor, and someone suddenly got smart, pulling the middle-aged woman’s arm out and telling her not to reach inside. Amid the middle-aged woman’s curses, Edgar Allan Poe tried to control the situation, saying, “Don’t touch it for now; let’s discuss this properly.”
For a moment, they were all shouting and pushing, and no one remembered that Lin Sanjiu was trapped in the room. Eight game makers, all red-faced, their mouths moist with saliva, were getting agitated and steaming from their heads. The young girl who had died lay alone by the door, her body getting colder and her skin turning bluish.
Yu Yuan stood in place, his gaze surveying the people making a racket, and a verse from the Bible surfaced in his mind.
‘Father… they do not know what they are doing.’
“Hey, hey,” Poe said, once they had calmed down a bit, “Did you sign a contract or something? How do you recognize your master, or say, change owners?”
To the question he had just asked, Lin Sanjiu was slowly answering it on the paper, letter by letter. Yu Yuan sensed the [Migratory Letters] in his palm and guessed her answer based on the part she had written. He said, “My master needs to verbally state to the recipient, ‘I voluntarily transfer the ownership of [Reincarnating Body] to so-and-so.’ Then I will automatically become that person’s property.”
To buy more time for Lin Sanjiu and prevent them from trying to lock him up again, Yu Yuan added, “Or you could imprison me for 150 days, and when you release me, my ownership will change.”
“Easy, tell that woman, if she doesn’t transfer ownership, we won’t let her out,” Lord Tremors, who was always the most ruthless, said. “After the ownership changes, just let her be trapped inside till she dies.”
“Who should it be transferred to?” asked Blue shirt quietly.
They had clearly come to deal with Lin Sanjiu, but now they had forgotten their original purpose. If the earlier logic held, they clearly couldn’t use text to write themselves rare Special Items – otherwise, each would write one, and they wouldn’t be envious.
Their text manipulation ability seemed to only work for creating games.
“We all have an interest in this humanoid Special Item; it’s inevitable,” the portly man said, still having a big-picture view. “We can discuss the specific ownership slowly later. In my opinion, for now, Little Nocturna needs to cancel the text cage, ah, and we can tie it with a rope.”
“Yes, yes,” they agreed. “Master Zhang, you think thoroughly.”
Although they couldn’t use words to deal with each other, they still had strength in numbers, so Queen Nocturna, despite her reluctance, eventually yielded. Yu Yuan exhibited the attitude expected of a humanoid Special Item throughout the process: he pretended to dodge twice but couldn’t escape, and a rope loop they threw caught his neck. He neither coughed nor struggled and was led away like an obedient ox, tied to the only protruding object nearby – the room’s doorknob.
The corpse was at Yu Yuan’s feet. He looked down at the young girl’s hand spread on the ground, pale as if it were fake.
Seeing that he had been obediently tied up, the eight people resumed their discussion about dividing the spoils. They knew that this debate was pointless, as everyone wanted a second life. Eventually, it was Lord Tremors who proposed, “That woman isn’t any good; she probably did many bad things to be able to own such a humanoid Special Item. She must have other things on her; we can divide the spoils equally.”
With this proposition, the method of trapping Lin Sanjiu to death could not help but make them feel frustrated; they had much more to discuss, and the conversation became heated.
In an unobserved moment, Yu Yuan quietly bent down and grabbed the female corpse’s hand, pressing it against the doorknob.